


A Different Kind of Monster

by findyouranchor



Series: in the land of gods and monsters [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Angst, Child Abuse, Codependency, F/M, I don't know what I'm doing, I'm Sorry, Insanity, M/M, Mental Instability, Multi, Murder, Polyamory, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Serial Killers, Sexual Violence, Sexual release from killing, Soulmates, Threesome - F/M/M, Twisted, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-06-29
Packaged: 2017-12-03 13:52:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/findyouranchor/pseuds/findyouranchor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was it. The first time. The first kill. And it was everything he hoped it would be, everything he needed it to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Time

**Author's Note:**

> This is not beta read and all mistakes are my own. I honestly don't know what I'm doing but have some serial killer!Isaac x Lydia x Stiles thing. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> I do not own Teen Wolf

It should have been terrifying. It should have made him want to run in the opposite direction, not stopping until he collapsed from exhaustion. It should have made him feel sick with guilt. It should have, but it didn't. 

Isaac stood mesmerized over the mangled body. Blood dripping from the hunting knife clutched in his hand and clotting with the dirt that made up the forest floor. His chest, expanding and contracting quickly as he took in and let out short bursts of breath. His eyes traced over the various bruises and gashes that patterned her skin. Staring too long at the bloodied holes that ran all along the sides of the once perfectly white dress she was wearing. It was prom night and she looked stunning in the floor length gown. He doesn't remember what her name is. _Becky? Brittany? Brianna? Something with a B_ , he thinks. It doesn't really matter, it'll be on the news tomorrow morning after her parents will most likely report her missing. He could wait until then.

This was it. The first time. The first kill. And it was everything he hoped it would be, everything he needed it to be.

Isaac squatted down, hovering over the body. He cocked his head to the side and examined it more closely. She was beautiful. Blonde curls and soft curves. There was a dark mess of red smeared on her left cheek, just below the indent of her eye. Pale skin that matched perfectly with the vibrant scarlet color staining her pouting lips. Her pupils were blown out, the black of them dominating the thin circle of blue that were her irises. The mascara that outlined her eyes was smudged along the top lids and down onto her cheekbones, mixing in the thickness of the blood. Twigs and dead leaves snagged onto her dress and were tangled in her hair. Isaac felt a spasm of heat pooling low in his belly.

“They'll miss you. Don't worry.” Isaac stated flatly, expression void of any remorse. His mind was still fuzzy from the high he got after he sunk the blade into her abdomen for the first time. The sticky warmth of the blood covering his hands as he felt her body tense up at the sharp pain pulsing within, made his heart pound profoundly in his chest. He couldn't tear his eyes from her face, watching as it contorted into an array of agony and disbelief and it was better than any porn he had ever seen. The way her body quivered beneath him as she exhaled for the last time was better than any orgasm he'd ever felt. There was a small twinge of fear that it wouldn't provide him with the release he needed or the high would wear off as soon as she stopped breathing but it was better than he could have ever imagined. He might even be able to ride this high until he got the chance to do it again. It all had to be timed out properly and Isaac had been planning this for months.

He already had everything set up. The trunk of his car was lined with a powder blue tarp and parked close enough to drag the body to it. He brought water to wash the blood from his arms and hands and an extra set of clothes and shoes to change into. He already had a 10 foot dug out grave set aside to dump the body in. When hearrived at the cemetery, he would dispose of the body and all the evidence, including his blood soaked clothing and fill in the extra 4 feet. There was an older gentleman who was scheduled to be buried in the remaining 6 feet tomorrow afternoon. No one would suspect a thing. It was fool proof.

No one would ever connect him to her disappearance, they were practically strangers. The only thing they had in common was that they went to the same high school, but then again so did a couple hundred other kids. They were never seen speaking to one another, they hadn't been seen leaving the prom together. No one would question him about being at the cemetery in the middle of the night, he was a grave digger. It was perfect. He made his first kill and he was going to get away with it and it was fucking exhilarating.

Her name was Bevin Anders. Within the next few weeks her face is plastered every where. Fliers stapled to any and all available surfaces, television appearances frequently made by her parents, school counseling sessions and fundraisers being held in her honor and all Isaac could think about whenever he looked at Bevin's picture is how much prettier she was covered in blood. It gives a whole new high to help hold him over.

Bevin's friends and acquaintances are questioned about her possible whereabouts and what happened during/after prom. As are the residential trouble makers. And as always, Isaac goes completely unnoticed.

Sometimes being invisible has it's perks.

* * *

 

He overlooks it the first couple of times they sit at his table during lunch. He's too caught up inside his own head. Most of the time people sit down without even realizing he's there. They talk amongst themselves and pick at the awful cafeteria food lumped onto their trays, like Isaac doesn't even exist. He's gotten used to it, knows it's better this way. Makes it easier to be who he is if no one's paying any attention to him.

After the fourth consecutive day of his table being occupied by the same two people, Isaac starts to take notice. He hadn't ever looked to see who they were before, there was no reason to. He did however recognize the potent scent that assaulted his nose in the best way whenever they came in close proximity of him. Patchouli oil with a subtle hint of vanilla. It was a dark, musky and slightly sweet aroma that Isaac just wanted to wrap himself up in. It smelt like his childhood. Like warm summer nights, when the wind would sway them gently in the hammock that his father tied up in the backyard. Like the incense she used to burn when he couldn't fall asleep. Like his mother before she got sick. And he still wasn't sure if it was comforting or unsettling.

“You're Isaac Lahey, right?” Isaac looked up from the slop he was currently pushing around his tray with a fork, startled by the peppy voice that was speaking to him.“Yeah, that's me.” He replied timidly to the red head who was leaning across the table, staring at him curiously, pursing her perfect lips. It took him a moment to match the voice he heard to the face that was mere inches from his.

“Hello Isaac. I'm Lydia Martin.” The grin that spread across her face was devilish. Of course Isaac knew who Lydia Martin was, everyone did.

“And this is my boyfriend, Stiles.” Lydia gestured to the boy seated to her left. Isaac and Stiles didn't need an introduction, they had known one another for years. They weren't exactly friends, barely even acquaintances honestly. After Isaac lost his mother he was put into a youth grief counseling group and Stiles, whose mother had also passed away, was a member of the same group. They never spoke to each other one on one in or outside of the center. It was too painful. When Camden died, his stopped going altogether. He didn't want to have to explain away the bruises. He hasn't really spoken about either of them since then. 

“Me and Isaac go way back.” Stiles' grin and posture now syncing with Lydia's.

“Isaac and I.” Lydia corrects him, placing a kiss to his cheek. Isaac felt a sting of jealousy. Whether it was because Stiles had Lydia or Lydia had Stiles, he isn't quite certain. 

“Right. Right.” Stiles rolled his eyes playfully at her as she sticks her tongue out at him and then they both focus their attention back on Isaac. Who can feel his heart beating in his throat. He's not good at small talk. He's not really good at any kind of talking actually. So just sits in silence, staring wide-eyed at the extremely attractive couple in front of him. 

“We know what you did.” She says it after a prolonged moment of silence and Isaac knows immediately what she's talking about. The way she says it isn't accusatory. It's not disgusted or scared. It just is. She just says it, lets it be known that it isn't only his secret anymore.

“It's okay Isaac. We want to help.” And the way her lips curl up, feral and wild, makes his skin crawl and his heart race.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so damn long. I've had a lot going on and this was kind of put on the back burner for a while. I promise I will try to update more after this! As always this is unbeta'd and all mistakes are my own.   
> Also, I do not own Teen Wolf
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!!!!!!!!
> 
> THERE IS SOME ABUSE IN THIS.

“What do you mean you want to help me? I don't need any help.” Isaac leaned closer to the couple sitting across from him, his voice low and hushed and defensive. They had to be stupid if they thought he needed any help. Isaac wasn't good at many things but he was good at this. He had made his first kill and he executed it perfectly. He planned for months, calculated every detail, played out every possible scenario in his head. He _waited_ for months, for the perfect opportunity, for the necessary circumstances and he did it all with excruciating patience. Who the fuck were they to tell him he needed their help? Isaac had already gotten away with murder and he would do it again.

“Don't get so defensive Isaac. We're not trying to insult you. You did a wonderful job covering your tracks.” Lydia clicked her tongue at him, narrowing her eyes as she crossed her arms neatly over the table and brought her face closer to his. 

“Yeah, burying her in a graveyard is clever as fuck but burying her _underneath_ another person is just, it's genius.” Stiles shakes his head in awe and smiles widely at Isaac. He remembers Stiles from when they were kids. He was a mess of nervous energy with the inability to focus on anything but he had this way about him. Isaac used to think about him a lot, tried to figure out what made him so interesting, so different. Because that's exactly what he was. Different. Isaac could feel it in his bones whenever they were close and it made him want to _know_ Stiles. That was big, Isaac didn't really want to know anyone. 

“Genius indeed.” Lydia looked at him curiously, like he was a puzzle that she couldn't quite piece together. 

“...Thanks.” Just as Isaac finishes, the bell rings and the students begin filing out of the cafeteria in a large, uncoordinated crowd. The three of them stay seated, waiting for the rest of the teenagers to make their way through the double doors and into the hallway towards their designated classrooms. 

“We'll be seeing you around Isaac.” Lydia stands and grins ferociously, taking Stiles' hand into her own. They make their way towards the doors and when they disappear through it, Isaac lets out a breath he wasn't aware he had been holding. 

“What the hell just happened?” He says it to himself, staring down at his tray of uneaten food. 

 

* * *

 

 

For the first few weeks they only ever interact with him during lunch. They sit at his table and make small talk, acting like they don't know what Isaac has done, like they don't know where the body is buried. It makes him uneasy. The way they've adapted to fit their surroundings, how they can seem so _normal_. But Isaac can feel it whenever the three of them are together. He knows that they're just as messed up as he is, only Lydia and Stiles are better at it. They have not only molded themselves into seemingly normal functioning teenagers but into the most sought after individuals in the entire school. 

Lydia is gorgeous and that alone could make her popular by high school standards but she's more than that. Lydia knows her part and she plays it perfectly. To simply say Stiles is charming would be a gross understatement. He's a tornado of sarcasm and quick witted remarks. He's almost as breath-taking as Lydia in most respects and the reason why half the high school male population question their sexuality on a regular basis. They're dangerous because they're beautiful and it makes Isaac want to crawl out of his skin. 

They slowly begin to find ways to interject themselves into his life in and out of school. Stiles transfers into his gym class and Lydia manages to get herself assigned as his tutor. They frequently show up at the cemetery during Isaac's shift, sitting with him beneath the giant maple tree while he's on break. They even take turns making him home made lunches on the weekends and driving him to and from work. It all feels very foreign but Lydia smells the way his mother used to and Stiles laughs too loud like his brother did and they make Isaac feel like he's 8 years old again and he doesn't want it to go away. He doesn't want them to leave him and he _hates_ it because they don't belong to him. They are not his to keep. Lydia and Stiles belong to one another and they've just simply befriended Isaac for reasons he still doesn't understand.

 

* * *

 

 

“Why have you been hanging around me so much?” Isaac blurts out nervously one Saturday in mid May. The three of them are sitting knee to knee under the giant maple tree located at the far right corner of the cemetery. The same spot they sit whenever Isaac is on his lunch/dinner break. It's been two months since Lydia introduced the two of them to Isaac and they haven't spoken a single word about his secret since then. 

“I told you Isaac. We're going to help you.” Lydia places her hand softly on his bent knee, smiling up at him like her touching him like this is completely normal. 

“Yeah, you said that. But how're you going to help me?” His face contorts in an array of confusion and frustration. Lydia is calculated, she never tells more than is absolutely necessary and it drives Isaac crazy. 

“We're going to make you better.” And then her lips are at his neck.

“More like us.” And Stiles' hands are on Isaac's thigh and they're slowly moving higher, moving closer and Isaac's lost the ability to think properly. The way their hands move together under his shirt and over his skin makes his entire body tingle. His eyes roll back and his breath accelerates and they're touching him and everything feels like static electricity. Lydia slides her hand from his chest to the inside of his thigh and she lets out a small chuckle when it grazes over the strain in his jeans. And if Isaac could form a coherent thought right now, he might be seething with embarrassment but Lydia and Stiles just continue to run their hands over Isaac's body, touching and teasing and kissing his pale skin and he swears he can feel _everything._

“Isaac! What the hell is going on?”

“Dad?!” Isaac's eyes widen with fear and his entire body freezes. Lydia and Stiles feel him tense up and quickly withdraw themselves from him, watching as he scrambles to his feet and keeps his head bowed, avoiding eye contact. 

“So this is what you've been doing while you're supposed to be working?” Isaac's father screams, stepping closer to him with his fist raised and Isaac flinches like he's already felt the blow from it. 

“No. Dad. It's – it's not what it looks like. We were just – I was just –“ Isaac can feel the tears forming in his eyes as he tries to stammer out an explanation or an excuse or just fucking anything to make the twisting in his stomach stop. 

“I don't want to hear your excuses Isaac. Get your ass in the car. Now.” He steps even closer and shoves his index finger in Isaac's face. 

“But Dad –“ And before he can finish there's a fist colliding with his right cheek and they all can hear the sickening cracking sound it makes and it takes everything inside of him to keep the contents of his stomach in place. 

“Get your ass moving Isaac!” His father's voice bellows throughout the cemetery as he whines his fist up again, pulls back and lunges forward. He throws all his weight into the punch and it connects with Isaac's left cheek this time, a bone-shattering cry rips through his body as he clutches at his face. Trying to block anymore punches his father might throw. 

“If you tell anyone about this, I will make sure it's the very last thing you do.” Isaac's father threatens, looking from Lydia to Stiles and grabs Isaac by the collar of his shirt. He lifts him up and drags the boy away from them and towards the entrance of the cemetery. 

Lydia and Stiles stare after them in shocked silence, trying to properly comprehend the events that just took place in front of them and only barely succeeding. How could they have missed something as crucial as that?

Isaac isn't in school for the next two weeks. Lydia does some digging while helping in the office and finds a doctor's note stating that Isaac is home sick with pneumonia and won't be able to attend school until further notice. 

This was going to be a problem.

 

* * *

 

 

It's been three weeks since the incident at the cemetery and he hasn't seen or spoken to either of them. He wasn't allowed back at school until his bruises healed and his father made sure he had no contact with anyone while he was at home. It'd been two and a half weeks of absolute fucking hell. He was going to go back to his seemingly meaningless existence and pretend like Lydia and Stiles hadn't ever been a part of it. 

Only his life wasn't easy and things rarely ever worked in his favor so why would this be any different?

The first thing he notices is her hair. In a sea consisting of predominately blondes and brunettes, the cherry red of her curls snags his interest. Isaac fights to ignore the way his heart races and his insides twist when he thinks about how she'll look with blood and dirt staining her features. The circumstances aren't right and he can't risk getting caught, not when he's just started. He _has_ to be patient. But then she looks at him and smiles and he sees Lydia and remembers the way she made him feel with her hands rushing over his skin and his entire body ignites with overwhelming desire and he can't stop the blood rushing to all the wrong places when he thinks about his hands tightening around her neck. It's almost enough to send him over the edge, to grab her right there in the crowded hallway and press his body against hers until she's no longer breathing. But he composes himself, pulling at shreds of control until they’re stretched too thin and she is no longer in his line of sight. He hides himself away in one of the boys bathrooms, locks the door to keep from going after her and racks his brain for a solution. Whether it's a way to stay in control until the appropriate opportunity arises or a way to kill her now without getting caught, he still hasn't quite decided. All he's certain of is that he _has_ to have her.


End file.
